


empty, filled

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst sort of, Getting Together, M/M, mentions of semishira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13679688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: Yamagata misses his friend. He's not fond of how his birthday coincides with a cheesy holiday either.





	empty, filled

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Yamagata!! Ok it's a bit angsty but you guys should know me by now

Can you count on   
Both your hands   
How long it’s been   
Since we spoke? 

Can you count   
How many words   
I wish I could say out   
Loud? 

Can you tell me   
If you’ve missed me   
Like I have   
You 

It’s been a long haul   
But my heart still wanders   
Walking always   
Back to you 

\----- 

Yamagata stares at the upside-down table across the room, fingers laced on his stomach. Tick, tick, tick. Time passes him by, as it always does. 

He sighs. Rolls over. His chin rests on folded hands, waiting for the rush of blood to stop. Waiting for the dizziness to clear. He feels a little empty. 

 _Come on,_   _Hayato_. _It’s only nine. You can still go._  

But what if he does go, he muses. Will the one he seeks be happy to see him? 

 _If you don’t go, you’ll never find out._  

He sighs and drags himself off the bed. He hopes he has something decent to wear, at least. 

\----- 

It’s ridiculously bright, even for spring. Yamagata supposes it’s lucky that he’s headed inside, out of the sun. 

It’s eleven, now, and the time for the children’s ice skating class is over. He can see parents and children on the escalator, going in the opposite direction. He wonders if he’s too late. 

He thinks he might be, as he approaches the indoor rink. He doesn’t see anyone tall and blond anywhere. He figures it can’t hurt to ask. 

The cashier startles when he taps on the glass, breaking into a grin when he sees who it is. “Yamagata-senpai! Good morning!” 

Yamagata feels a grin come on, mirroring Goshiki’s. “Morning. Has Taichi left yet?” 

“Ah, you missed him by a few minutes.” Goshiki looks apologetic. The expression mirrors Yamagata's emotions. 

He waves it off. “That’s fine. Is he sticking around today, or homework?” 

“I dunno. He ran off pretty fast.” Goshiki curls further into himself, though he did nothing wrong. “Sorry.” 

“Hey now, no sorrys needed.” Yamagata smiles, and fake as it is, it makes Goshiki look a little less miserable. “It’s not your fault he’s busy today.” 

“Mm, yeah, I guess?” Goshiki frowns out the window, at the couples stepping into the ice. “Maybe he’s got a date?” 

“A date.” Yamagata echoes dumbly. A date? 

“Yeah, because it’s Valentine’s Day or something–” Goshiki cuts himself off with a horrified gasp, eyes wide and staring. Yamagata spins around, checking that there are no ghosts creeping up behind him. 

“Okay, no ghosts,” he mutters, relieved. He turns back. “What’s that face for then?” 

Goshiki makes a strangled sound. “Happy birthday, senpai. I forgot to get you a gift. Please forgive me.” 

Yamagata blinks. Laughs. Goshiki’s blatant honesty is always endearing. “Oh, you don’t have to. I appreciate the thought though.” 

“But presents–!” 

“They’re nice but not necessary.” Yamagata grins, just to make sure Goshiki really gets it. “Besides, I’m not in the mood for chocolate.” 

Goshiki looks at him, eyes wide. “How did you know what I was thinking?” 

Wry exasperation twists his smile. “That’s the gift I get most often, what with Valentine’s and all.” 

“Oh. What would you like, if not chocolate?” Goshiki seems genuinely curious. 

Yamagata shrugs. “Never thought about it. Anything but chocolate.” 

“How about takoyaki?” Goshiki’s expression has lighted up again. “Everyone likes takoyaki.” 

Yamagata thinks about it. “Takoyaki sounds good.” 

“Then I’ll buy you takoyaki! After my shift!” 

His enthusiasm is infectious, and Yamagata has to fight back his smile. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome!”  

They say their goodbyes, and Yamagata stands to the side, watching Goshiki handle the queue of people who had formed up while they were talking. Then he turns away, walking deeper into the mall, drifting. 

\----- 

He isn’t sure what he’s looking for. He’s not sure what he finds. But he feels curiously empty, both in heart and mind. 

He sits on a bench and watches people go by. The ambient sounds wash over him, occupy his attention just a little. The sounds sit in his skull for a second, filtering out. Water on stone, washing, washing, leaving no trace behind. He wonders if this is what it’s like to reach a zen state. It's not particularly nice, he thinks. 

People walk by. Sometimes his eyes follow them. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes he latches on to a bit of conversation before it floats away – dandelions on the wind, a was, a has-been. 

He really does feel empty. 

(But beneath the hollowness, he feels a seed of unwieldy emotion.) 

Yamagata sighs. Stands, hands in his pockets, and begins to wander around the mall. 

Fashion has never been his thing, not really. But he likes colours, and looking at the wide array of materials and shades strung up within shops, hanging in alcoves along the wall… Well… He feels a little less… Alone. 

He finds a pet shop. Stops. Watches the small animals tumble over each other, watches them eat and drink and play. He finds himself cooing at them – emptiness doesn’t mean he cannot appreciate the precious lives before him. But he leaves here too, continuing on his journey. 

(To where?) 

He begins to notice, the couples hand in hand, strolling the mall. The girls are so clingy, and he wrinkles his nose.  

He realises. What he’s doing. Sighs. 

 _Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?_  

He knows, though. He knows himself. He  _is_  a hypocrite. 

He refuses to let the wistful thinking take root, easing a heavy blanket over the emotion. He keeps walking. 

(Where to?) 

Yamagata stops. Puts his hands on the railing. Steps closer, looking out over the lower floors, at the spread of people and shops and garish pink. He wishes he could find it in himself to smile at the ridiculous occasion. 

 _You’ve got to stop doing this._  

He wishes he could lie more convincingly to himself. 

He stands there a while longer. Thinking. Drifting. Letting himself be reduced to another tiny molecule on the surface of the enormous earth. All while just. Wondering. 

He gives in. Lets the thoughts out. 

 _Gosh, I miss you._  

He is such a cliché.  

 _Taichi_ _, I miss you._  

When was the last time they spoke? 

 _I wish we could spend more time together._  

Wishful thinking. But he likes this dream, even if it pierces his heart after. Even if his eyes prick and his breathing is heavier. 

 _Why won’t you speak to me?_  

He understands. He does. Friends don’t speak to each other all the time. Personal space exists, after all.  

But he still hurts. They used to talk, all the time. 

 _Maybe I’m too dependent on you._  

Maybe he is. His mood is lifted, substantially, when they get to speak. It’s been a year since he graduated, but they kept in touch. 

 _Kept_  in touch. Not so much, now. 

 _It’s only been a week, hasn’t it?_  

But they’d been drifting apart for months. 

His hands meet. Fingers lace, clasp tightly, twisting together. He wishes he could see a way out of it. 

 _I really, really miss you._  

 _Maybe I love you?_  

Wishful thinking. False hopes. A little lie, to appease himself. He sighs. 

His phone buzzes. A distraction. It's welcome, and he opens the message.  

It’s Goshiki, and he asks to meet in front of the small takoyaki store in the basement. He sees no reason to decline. 

He makes his way down. Thinks that perhaps, he saw a glimpse of old friends around the corner. He has not the energy to say hi. It’s a relief when they disappear. 

 _I’m glad they found each other._  

That's what he says, but he can’t feel the emotion, not really. 

Empty words, even if he means them. He  _is_  happy for them… But he can’t find the emotion right now. 

A voice calls him. He's in the basement already?  

He blinks, mind catching up to his ears. Looks up. Blinks again. Is he dreaming? 

Kawanishi holds out the box of takoyaki, a smile softening his face. “Happy birthday, Yamagata-san.” 

He blinks again. Smiles a little. Takes the box. 

(No, he's awake.) 

(He’s awake, and Kawanishi is talking to him again.) 

He's still empty, but he won’t fake it, not for Kawanishi. He deserves the truth, even if he himself has no idea what that truth is. “Thanks. Did Tsutomu put you up to this?” 

“Maybe.” There’s a secret smile hidden behind pink cheeks.  

Yamagata squints. Steps closer, pulling on Kawanishi’s collar so he would bend. “Are you wearing makeup?” 

Kawanishi smirks. Flutters his eyelashes. Yamagata can see the light glimmering off coloured eyelids. “Am I pretty?” 

“You always are.” He means it. 

Kawanishi smiles. It’s more genuine this time. 

They walk. Find an empty bench. Share the takoyaki between them, chatting about mundane things, about their lives and the busyness of school. Yamagata is sure he’s happy, now. He’s buoyant, comfortable. Peaceful. 

He really did miss Kawanishi. And their talks, the laughter. The casualness of it all. 

The box is empty, thrown away. They sit amongst the bustle of the crowd, couples everywhere they look. Yamagata feels a bit wistful, again. Odd, because he has a smidgen of emotion now, and wistfulness usually doesn't coincide with that. 

"What are you thinking?" 

He glances up at Kawanishi, but his face is unreadable. His face is also  _too_  pretty, the colours familiar. He squints. 

"Did Eita do your makeup?" 

Kawanishi startles. His eyes crinkle, he laughs. "Yes. Kenjirou tried to pin me down by sitting on me, so that Semi-san could work his magic." 

Yamagata grins at the image. "Kenjirou's too small to really pin you down." 

"Yeah." 

Yamagata reaches up, tugs on Kawanishi's chin so he can see. The makeup is extraordinarily done, and he recognises Semi's handiwork in each brushstroke. "Eita did a great job." 

"You like it?" 

"Of course." He lets Kawanishi go, but his eyes are drawn to his bare lips. "Eita didn't make you wear lip gloss?" 

"I refused." Kawanishi wrinkles his nose. "The only one on hand was Kenjirou's and I refuse to share germs with him." 

Yamagata laughs. "You mean you don't want Eita's germs by association." 

"Then there's that." 

Yamagata laughs harder. 

(He's missed this.) 

(He's missed Kawanishi, his dry humour, his teasing insinuations.) 

(Maybe he  _does_  love him?) 

"Yamagata-san." 

"Yeah?" He looks up, and Kawanishi is way too close. They're almost nose to nose. Not that he minds, much. But…  "Taichi?" 

Kawanishi blinks slowly. The action is exaggeratedly slow, and Yamagata wonders what's up. "You know I love you, right?" 

"Yeah. I love you too." This is normal. A normal exchange, a normal declaration between them, but it feels… A little off, today. 

(They haven’t said it in an age. Perhaps that’s it.) 

Kawanishi exhales. Slowly. Loudly. "I mean more than just the friendship sort of adoration." 

"Uhh. Best friend love, then?" 

(He's not really playing dumb. Just a little, maybe.) 

Kawanishi groans. "You're not usually this dense." 

 _Well, excuse me for wanting to protect my heart._  

He's not sure he's ever had someone return his feelings. He's not even sure if they're real feelings, or if they're just a figment of his imagination. If he's mistaking these emotions for something else. "I'm sorry?" 

The blond looks amused. "I could forgive you, I suppose." 

"Oh, thank goodness." 

Kawanishi shakes his head. There's a smile on his lips. Gentle. Tender. "I love you." 

It doesn't feel real. "Love you too." 

"Do you get what I mean, though?" 

"Romantic love?" He hedges. He's…insecure? Is that the word for it? 

(None of this feels real.) 

"Yes."  

"Oh." Yamagata thinks about it. He feels giddy. It really doesn't feel real, but –  _ow_  –  the fingernails that he presses to his wrist– Maybe he  _isn't_  dreaming? He hedges an answer. "I love you too?" 

"Why is that a question?" 

"It doesn't feel real," he admits. He pokes Kawanishi's cheek to make his point. "Look at you. Look at me." 

"You're handsome, what about it?" 

"Well thanks but– You're absurdly pretty. I'm going to sue Eita for making you even prettier than you usually are." 

"I think he has enough suffering without you doing that," the blond says knowingly. "Kenjirou did his own makeup while Semi-san did mine. I think Semi-san died on the spot after he saw the finished product." 

Yamagata thinks about it. The image is hilarious. "I'm still suing him. After I thank him. You are really pretty, you know that?" 

"Thank you?" 

"Why is that a question?" 

Kawanishi cracks a smile. "I don't know. Do you want to share an ice cream with me?" 

"You mean, share saliva with you?" 

"Indirectly, of course." 

Yamagata laughs and laughs. He doesn't know why he's so giddy about it. About the thought of it.  

(Maybe it’s the thought of sharing saliva. Non-platonically.) 

(This is real. This is happening.)

"Yes. Yes, yes _, yes_ _._ " 

**Author's Note:**

> This has got nothing to do with SemiShira but. Cosmetology Semi is Kat's idea and honestly that gives me life. Also, Semi combusting when Shirabu puts a little bit of effort into his appearance.
> 
> [Ok but slightly sad and confusing kawagata, I'm not sorry. Everyone gets to share my confusion.]


End file.
